The War: Re-Ignited
by Sage of Eyes
Summary: Life as we know it has come to an end, the Fourth Holy Grail war setting off a cataclysmal event that destroyed the balance of power and secrecy. Shirou Emiya stands as one of the protectors of mankind against the darkness, a Magus. Armed with with Mystical power and the best humanity can offer, he and his fellows may be what the world needs to weather the coming war...
1. Chapter 1

The War: Re-Ignited

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Disclaimer: I do not make money from this.

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Chapter One : Prologue.

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The twin bladed helicopter was a sturdy and reliable work horse, but that did not make the ride any more comfortable for Yamada Karachi.

Beeps and alarms suddenly went off in his ride.

"Missile lock is on us, sir." The Pilot informed him, and the forty-something man gave a soft grunt.

"I'll be walking the rest of the way, youngster." Yamada used to not make a habit of calling people half his age youngster, but he found it therapeutic nowadays. The government official knew that he was just reminding himself that there were still young men and women around, and he didn't try to reject it. There were far too many, less healthy ways of coping. "Just set down right where we are."

"We're still in the canopy of trees sir." The pilot stated and Yamada took a deep breath.

"Check again."

"The tree's aren't going to just go away…"

Yamada took an idle glance out of the slanted port window of the twin-blade and gave a small chuckle. The middle-aged man imagined the number of motors needed to power the system of tarps, and knew well enough that it was probably dozens of times more efficient than what they had in stock.

Not to mention that the man he supposed made all of it was standing there as well, holding a decidedly unimportant-looking device in his hand.

The helicopter barely touched down before Yamada let himself out, he nearly sprained his ankle on the small drop. The man's experience in politics still allowed him to keep a straight face while his ankle throbbed.

"Is it safe to assume you still feel some national respect, given we are still alive?" Yamada inquired, both as a joke and a serious question. The man before him was clad like a fisherman like the rest lounging about the trees. The small arms and blades on the dozen or so men told a different story to the jokes running rampant, but the one before him was doubtlessly the most dangerous of them all. "Emiya-san?"

The dull eyes of the man became intensely sharp, and the clearing suddenly became deadly silent. Yamada's eyes glanced towards the numerous fighters around him, as they were most certainly not soldiers. His thoughts idly reminded him about the reports of the resistance movement in the Caribbean, and that those fighters were doing a grand job of holding off the US marines.

Kiritsugu Emiya regarded him, making Yamada feel like a piece of meat in the process. Yamada accepted that fact with remarkable calm, he knew of disposability well enough. The man gave a small wave, and the silence died as the many men began to chatter once more. Yamada gave them a cursory glance that he meant for Kiritsugu to see.

"You trained them well." Yamada noted as he quickly followed the man in question. "That bodes well for my proposition if that's the finished product."

Kiritsugu stopped so suddenly Yamada felt himself stiffed in preparation for death. The man didn't even turn, before emitting a slow whistle. The younger of the two men's gazes fell on Yamada's chest, and the man in question followed with his own.

A red dot flitted away from his heart a mere second his gaze landed upon it.

"I gathered them together." Emiya Kiritsugu stated suddenly, "They're all that remains of this country's military."

Yamada gave a small chuckle.

"It must have been difficult ferrying them all here."

They passed by another twin-rotor helicopter, an old US Chinook if Yamada remembered correctly. It was well maintained, though the lack of windows made it apparent that it was no longer to fly at the altitudes it was supposed to.

"Not as difficult as you'd think." The dull-eyed man stated dryly. Yamada would've thought it a joke, but it sounded too much alike a statement of fact to be one. "Their navy may have been annihilated by yours, but their airlift capabilities certainly saved their lives."

Yamada's small smirk faltered ever so slightly, there would be problems abound if the man had problems about Japan's expansions. Many citizens were abhorrent to the fact, even though Japan's hyper-dense population centers had effectively turned many areas into wastelands. The higher the population in an area, the more it was effectively destroyed.

"So how have you been?" Yamada inquired, ignoring the sharp jab into the more controversial aspects of his work, as any good politician did. "Have you been enjoying yourself here?"

The look he was given questioned his sanity, but Yamada kept up his facsimile good nature.

"I suspect that this place survived much better than most." Kiritsugu afforded him a small amount of sarcasm. Yamada ignored the fact that his target effectively knew his game, but knowing he was actively pressing even the smallest of buttons made him far more confident about his mission. "But enjoyment is a rather strong word."

"We'd like to help you in that regard." Yamada stated good naturedly, eyeing the suspiciously large number of concrete buildings. "Our supplies in terms of the rest of the world, is far more than our population requires."

Thirty percent more than what was required actually, Japan enjoyed first world amenities and a small population. The only other countries that actually had a surplus of infrastructure was Cuba, America, and Australia. The amount of requests and threats coming from the rest of the world were staggering.

Needless to say, the simple statement changed the entire atmosphere of the conversation.

"What do you want from me?" Yamada was immediately asked by one of the deadliest men in the world. To Yamada's credit, he still kept his winning smile on his face.

"You are aware of the initiatives being taken by all the countries regarding Magi?" Yamada inquired, and the man before him shook his head. They were heading into the heart of the concrete village, and they were now before one of the many cube-like houses. This one, Yamada noted, had a Radio antennae atop it. "We are gathering all the children with an aptitude for magic, and searching for a teacher for them."

"One country shouldn't have a monopoly over such things." The man stated with a frown.

"Which is why we're happy to let you stay here with your son, Emiya-san." Yamada stated politely and he watched the man tense like a wire. "In exchange for supplies and anonymity, we would like you to impart your methods to the next generation of Magi."

"What if I refuse?"

Yamada gave a smile.

"We know you won't Emiya-san."

…

My hermetic seals were acting up again, being decidedly uncooperative as I did my best to fix them. Granted they were three months old, the wear and tear of their usage prescribing them a mere week in the battlefield, but I was confident I should be able to squeeze another month out of them.

"Need some tape?" The soldier sitting next to me inquired. The man was quite burly, and the pack that he set between his legs equally large. "I have some extra if you need it, sir."

I shook my head, giving a small sigh as I reached into the over-the-shoulder pack attached to my harness. The new seal in the bag easily connected between the seams of the glove and the rest of the suit. A quick check of all areas, and I connected the air extractor to the generator resting in the small of my back. The suit stiffened and I allowed myself a sigh of relief as I was once more safe from the atmosphere mere feet away.

"Do you need some cells for your power pack?" The same soldier inquired once more, and I tried to remain oblivious to the amount of mumbling form the other six soldiers in the group. The man was obviously the newest of the lot, and unused to working with people like myself. "I have a few spares…"

"Rookie," The gas mask sealed upon the Lieutenant's face muffled her voice slightly, out of the entire group she was the only one wearing her mask inside the sealed environment of the armored personnel carrier. The woman was paranoid, something I could understand as I could estimate how much combat she'd been. "Don't bother the people who could rip your head off with their pinkies."

There was a smattering of chuckles in the carrier, and the man's face reddened.

"Given his lack of experience." I smoothly cut in, the smaller mask I was utilizing didn't muffle my voice in the slightest. My air filter was connected right to the mask, instead of looping into chamber cut into armor like the soldiers. Their muffled voices was a combination of the travel required of the sound, and the thickness of their largely inefficient filters. "It would do best to explain why, rather than let him wallow in his ignorance."

The man probably looked to me gratefully, but I truly didn't pay attention due to the mere fact I was going over the rest of equipment.

Unlike the ceramic vests my company was utilizing, mine was integrated right into my under-suit. It provided me mobility, but wasn't nearly as strong as my companions. Where they had protection up to rifle-rounds, mine stopped at submachine guns. My own abilities allowed me to enhance the armor to the effect of anything short of a tank round, but any breaches would significantly lower my capabilities.

The left abdomen panel sported a hole the size of a large coin, and I wasn't at all surprised to find it. I was bruised there the last I checked, as my skin stopped the round short of puncturing my skin. I briefly remembered sealing my under-suit with heated adhesive and some of the extra fabric I was afforded, but I was more relieved at finding the opening than angered at my forgetfulness.

A quick application of alteration and the armor was sealed once more, albeit a tad thinner than it used to be. I would merely have to concentrate on providing more energy on in later on.

The personnel carrier came to a rickety halt, the old design giving it an age somewhere between ten to twenty years before my birth. The over-pressure system of the carrier was a scant few weeks before they failed completely. I made a note to tell the engineers once we returned to base, they most likely did not know about the large amount of build-up within the machine.

"Boots on the ground, ladies." The lieutenant was already at the hatch, hefting her wooden-stocked rifle with practiced ease. The other in the group were going through their checks, most focusing largely on connecting the hermetic seals of their masks to their under-suits. "Remember to take all the ammunition you can carry, APC's set to come back around two hours from now."

"Have to make some pickups from the next town over." The driver declared over the radio, it was far more difficult to comprehend than the muffled voices of the soldiers. "I'll be back with a few cases of beer so feel free to feed a ghoul or two, mean more for me!"

The lieutenant probably cursed under her breath, but she hit the button to open the hatch and white dust flew in.

"Snow?" The rookie inquired dubiously, and I had to actually withhold my grim chuckling. Though the rest of his squad didn't have my self-control and allowed themselves to do so. "Why is it grey?"

"It's your first time out isn't it?" One of the soldiers remarked, pulling up the hood on his great coat before following the rest of the small squad out. "Never seen corpse dust have you?"

I plucked one of the slowly falling flakes, imaging the grainy texture as it stained the white of my gloves. The cold of winter caught me off guard for a moment, before I shrugged on my own jacket, pulling up my hood as well.

I heard a whistle come as I made my way out of the vehicle. The soldiers were unloading the sides of the vehicle, carrying the massive amounts of ammunition they would need for their mission.

"Class A." The man gave a satisfied grunt as he looked me up and down. "Fur trimming too? Goddamn I could only imagine what sorts of hell you've been through, sir."

"I wish it was that pleasant." I stated with a small nod, eliciting a guffaw from the second largest man in the group. The first of that distinguished ranking belonged to the rookie, but the man slapping his knee was a close second. "Those beasts were quite hard to kill."

A sudden pain erupted in my chest, and I stumbled…

I looked at my chest, a brilliant edge sticking out of it.

What the…

…

"Seem's I've found that missing reconnaissance group from three years ago." Shirou Emiya stated dryly as he withdrew the knife from the mobile husk. The lack of liquid gave off the apparent age of the being in question. "An A-rank mage too, doesn't bode too well with our adversary."

"Is it because he can somehow control mages, or because he's been around for three years?" The static-interrupted drawl of his handler let itself be known from his earpiece. They were certainly less space-consuming than his last communicator, but their quality wasn't nearly as good as he was used to. "Enlighten me, All-Powerful Magus"

"I'd hazard to guess it's a combination of the two." Shirou checked the body, making note of the age of equipment. It was certainly congruent with the time they disappeared, soldiers sported surplus gas masks and the mage was wearing a bulky turn-of-the-century mask. Nothing even to say about the hermetic sealing on the suits. "The fact that he could've only gone up from enthralling Class-A mages is what worries me."

"He didn't attack you though." His handler pointed out, to emphasize the fact the screen over his left eye replayed the small amount of resistance he had to fight through. The bulky forms of the soldiers lumbered clumsily while he outmaneuvered them, but the mage-clothed one did not move. "Maybe that means he wasn't controlled? Just stuck or something?"

"Or something." Shirou Emiya stated with no small amount of distaste, touching the system attached over the left of his face. The device's three camera's whirred as he went through all the spectrometric fields they gave him. "Didn't I tell you to stop doing that? Going through three thermal, UV, and electric too fast gives me a headache."

"Suck it up." Came the succinct reply, before the communication line dropped suddenly.

The blizzard outside must've picked up again, Shirou absently noted as he gazed at the sheet of grew on the windows. The best course of action was to wait it out in the ruins of the building he was in, but that would hamper his ability to track what they've been searching for months.

Despite being a magus, Shirou still knew better than to try and brave the storm outside. The city's close proximity to the coast, and the season of winter created a rather destructive force of nature. The storm season was supplemented by the nearly ever-present winter since the event more than a decade ago.

Well if supplies weren't an issue, Shirou Emiya pondered as he checked his gear.

The hunter clipped the pack off the harness that surrounded his body, dropping it to the floor. The loss of weight was alien, but satisfying at the same time. It had been days since he'd last taken it off, and the time span blurred his memories of his-

A growling noise emanated from the hallways, and he quickly re-clasped up the pack and re attached it to his back. A moment passed without intervention, and Shirou took the supplementary straps of the bag and latched it over his stomach. The growl was a familiar one, and having loose objects wasn't the wisest of ideas with the enemies he was about to face.

Shirou quickly withdrew the knife from its sheathe on his shoulder.

The magus quickly re-honed the knife's edge into a mono-molecular structure with an application of Alteration. The knife glowed softly as it took the excess energy and transferred it to the small gem within the handle. An absent check on the gem confirmed that he'd have enough energy to ignite the tempered steel should it be required.

Unfortunately, the knife drew the attention of his enemies. The subtle golden glow more than enough to reveal him to his foe.

A figure clad entirely in gray, did not hide well in a dark room while bathed in light.

The large lungs of the beings immediately made Shirou reflexively reinforce his eardrums. The human lacking in any sort of sexual organs, maybe even any others, caught his gaze and its lungs swelled to enormous sizes, almost touching the ceiling.

A scream tore through the building, so strong that Shirou was blown out through the window.

It was a testament to the techniques ingrained to his body, that he quickly took the nine-millimeter pistol off the nearest corpse and shot the thing in its lungs. The two shots precisely took out the being's specialized organs, deflating them and making the being crumple lifeless. The person who created it obviously tied it's life with the specialized organs.

Still the damage was done, and Shirou Emiya was in the blistering cold as he heard the lumbering of beasts in every direction.

Given the fact he knew that he was very low in ammunition, the confrontation was not pleasing in the slightest.

Escape was the best option.

At that thought, Shirou's hand immediately reached for the miniaturized engine on the small of his back. The object was tied to his harness and it's most central implement, it powered all the tools necessary to survive and outwit the massive forces he faced.

Taking out a cord that un spun easily, Shirou plugged it into the port that powered his two grapplers and aimed himself upward.

A lumbering roar made itself known, and he quickly ducked out of the way of a creature that resembled a giant ape with no fur or skin. Multiple bones protruded from its forearms, and a menacing tail almost gutted Shirou as he pushed himself off the ground with his hand. The beast lunged after him in dizzying speed, and Shirou immediately fired his grapplers into the wall opposite of him.

The magnetically fired cords whipped out and gored right through the beast's grossly miniscule torso. The split second it took for the attachment devices to connect allowed a single scratch on Shirou, by a protrusion of bone, before he was speeded into the direction he had been given.

Unfortunately, that was right into the beast's torso.

Quick thinking stopped Shirou Emiya from being crushed to death by massive arms. The fact that the thinking was done as he was being sped off only emphasized his reaction time. Though subconsciously reinforcing his blood to carry more oxygen may have done its fair share of work, the plan was fairly fast in it's production.

Shirou emptied the clip of the pistol into one of the beast's shoulders, the gun barely loading another round before the trigger was pulled. The beast lacked legs, and dragged itself around on its arms and tail. Shirou bared his knife and cut through the beast's arm…

Only to have the favor reciprocated as a second tail cut deeply into his left, making it limp and making him drop the empty gun.

Shirou gritted his teeth, but he was no stranger to pain. A quick reach towards the container in his pocket and he withdrew a squeezable syringe. A quick administration quickly relieved him of the haze of pain, and clotted the wound immediately.

If he was lucky the beasts would think he'd have left, and his camouflage would do its job.

More roars shook him, and the rumblings of monsters thundered upon the street below. A quick glance around the area depicted a grim end for him. The 'city' was largely composed of suburbs and small businesses, the grapple was the most useful in the realm of old-world structures.

He needed a distraction, at least until he could contact his transport.

A chunk of cement the size of his head nearly crushed the aforementioned organ, and he quickly disengaged the grapples and flipped himself back. Another firing of the life-saving tool stuck him to the building opposite. The spikes didn't find purchase upon the wooden home, or the tiles and habit rose as Shirou attempted to grab hold, only to almost slip off.

A quick check on his left arm, shocked him. His bone was cut, only the muscle fibers of his bicep were connected to the rest of his body. They managed to cut him despite the reinforcement he applied to his bones, making them harder than steel.

If they could cut steel…

Shirou disengaged the locking mechanism, un-plugging the launchers from their source of energy. There was plenty of time to retrieve the weapon he was searching for, as he landed on the roof opposite of the house.

Grabbing the stock of the gun with his hand, Shirou held the power cord between his teeth. There were several regulations towards holding something of such high voltage between teeth, but applications of such things could be ignored in his current situation. Shirou likened to think that he was in far more danger from the monsters, than accidentally licking a hydrogen generator.

It was a mystic code, no doubt could be said about that particular fact, but it's creation would've been impossible a decade ago. The resources required to provide a weapon equal to the scale of the one in his hands and hundreds of others would've been insurmountable to even the wealthiest of magi. The main body of the mystical code was housed in the fortress state of Hawaii and guarded by the only international force to exist anywhere in the world.

The generator attached to the small of his back heated up as it provided energy to the cooling mechanisms. The gun was already reacting to the power being transferred from the main Conduit, as it did every time he took it out of its bounded container. The cylinder the size of his forearm covered in dozens of runes spun and glowed, arcing bolts of lightning barely caught by the two prongs it levitated between.

The gun began to shake violently, making it impossible to be wielded by a normal man. Shirou Emiya was not normal, even by his own kind's standards. The weapon should've been held by both hands, but Shirou Emiya's decision to gain the ability to wield it in one came through majestically as he held the machine still.

The six charge containers filled easily between the weapon that hardly looked anything more than a stubby spear launcher and it's wielder took a deep breath as pieces of concrete began to rain upon him.

One arm needed to recovered, along with the weapons embedded in it. Shirou reminded himself as he tightened his grip on the weapon.

"-zzzt come in, come in."

"I'm here." Shirou stated, as he coolly rose from his cover. Noting the three dozen aberrations of nature before him, he immediately caught sight of the arm he lopped off and made a note to not aim in that direction. "Set the drone to hover over me for exfiltration, I need to leave immediately."

"Your arm!" Ayako's voice strained his ears considerably, "Are you using the rail gun with one hand again?"

Shirou didn't deign than worthy of an answer as he pulled the trigger.

The cylinder between the two prongs spun, becoming a disc of shining metal as it fully charged.

Shirou fired, the power of the shot nearly dislocating his elbow with ease. The shot was a bolt of electricity, tearing through a straight line of the creatures. They were tossed about like ragdolls, as Shirou guided the disk of energy within their lines. The magus knew he could only alter direction six times, and planned accordingly.

He held his body, as if he would as sword and began to move. The weapon, alike many made by magi, required exorbitant amounts of skill to utilize. This particular weapon was commonly utilized alike a sword, as the disk did not travel beyond ten meters, and could return to any distance between.

Shirou Emiya was quite good at using swords.

The creatures ran from the direct assault of the disk, and they tracked its wake with frightening clarity. Against a normal utilizer of the weapon, they would have survived to maybe even retreat. Three movements left, and Shirou had them all clustered, even if they didn't know about it themselves.

A flick of the wrist sent the hyper-dense disk into the air, and the last movement sent it careening down.

The impact of the mighty weapon shattered the foundations of the street, collapsing the beasts into a sinkhole into the sewer system. Their arms dug deep gauges into the ruined asphalt.

The heat generated from the friction of the weapon ignited the gas lines and a brilliant flame interrupted the sheet of grey in his vision. Out of the dense smoke, and even denser snow, the pillar flew out and settled itself back into its groove. A quick un-attachment of the power cord, and the stopping of his own ready supply of magical energy, allowed him to place it back into its container.

The burst of a cannon rang out and the creature that managed to flank him crumpled over, dead with a whole the size of wheel within its tiny torso.

"You're welcome." Ayako sniffed as the drone hovered in the air. "Shit, you have to get rid of your arm right now."

"It's graying?" Shirou inquired with no small amount of distaste. A quick application of his knife and the arm was useless upon the floor. A small usage of the power built up within allowed him to burn the limb to ash.

"Going black, more like it." Ayako stated, the worry in her tone apparent. "Not enough, you'll need to get rid of most of the shoulder as well."

"That shouldn't be possible." Shirou stated with a furrowed brow as he followed his direction. Even with an open wound in the hazardous atmosphere, it shouldn't rot so quickly. The creation of the monsters however… "These monsters are created to self-replicate using the corpses of their victims!"

"That doesn't sound too good." Ayako admitted and the four rotor drone the size of a small car covered dubiously above the corpse. "I'm going to harness it for study, hurry up and seal up your… torso."

A dry snort came from the magus as he withdrew a can of sealant. The foam held enough antibiotics to render a komodo dragon clean, and hardened fast enough to seal away what remained of his arm.

"Done with that yet?" Shirou inquired as he packed away his things, a tad more difficult with only one arm. A small part of him disliked losing the limb, but a larger part knew that packing would be far more difficult dead.

"Just waiting on you to finish your trim." Shirou's handler quipped and the silence was deafening. The airframe lifted off with the carcass, and then lowered itself off the side of the roof. "Bit early?"

"Try again next week." Shirou stated with no small amount of snark. The young man set his pack within the large rectangular container installed in the side, careful to latch close the seals or the decontamination unit wouldn't function. The harness would stay on, along with the generator as those were mandatory at all times outside of a safe zone. "You've got the correct location of the nearest Forward Base right?"

The airframe rumbled as he sat himself on it, the four rotor-wings moving the large mass of the vehicle upward and onward. The snow buffeted him quite a bit, but he was used to the feeling too much to be bothered by it. Riding a Reaver through the snow was always much better than going through water anyways. Snow didn't have a tendency to soak you enough to compromise mobility.

"I told you three times that was an error on their part, not mine!" Ayako fumed and Shirou chuckled lightly. "How long are you going to lord that over me?"

"Just long enough so I can be sure that I will never get sent into a _White _Zone when I'm expecting some R&R." Shirou stated with no small amount of exasperation. He wouldn't admit it, but he was quite glad that there was something in the way of the monotony of riding through a blizzard. Though he was sure that his handler knew it well enough because of the dedicated satellite uplink he'd splurged for.

"You gained hundreds of licenses for that!" Ayako stated with no small amount of dismay. "I didn't see a single one of those too!"

"Because I managed to clear out a heavily infested zone with only my Volt." Shirou rattled off his achievement that particular day with an odd pride. The number of mages to pull off that particular feat summed up to one. "All you did was put a zero instead of a one."

"…you're going to be okay right?" The question they both knew was waiting to be asked revealed itself with all the grace of a beached whale.

"I've been shot through the heart before." Shirou sighed as he prepared himself for the same round of questioning he received at the end of each mission. "That kept me down for what… three minutes?"

"You cannot simply bank on your healing factor at every fight, Emiya!" Shirou noted the usage of his last name, and wasn't all too pleased to note the edge it carried. "You're trained to dodge _bullets _yet you're always caught by surprise! I don't know about you, but I don't want to test that healing factor with a lobotomy!"

"I can't always be on the ball, Ayako." The wind was letting up, the storm was finally letting up for once. The hurricane was estimated to last for at least four weeks, so Shirou knew he was most probably heading into the eye of the storm. A good location for a forward base, he had to admit. "One day I'll make mistakes, and I'm not nearly as important as some of my colleagues to get some of their treatment."

"Un-scheduled Reaver, please provide a valid authority code or prepare to be fired upon." A deep, male voice intruded upon their transmission. Ayako immediately rattled off a set of numbers and letters, as the drone lowered itself. Shirou thought about looking through the ice with his thermal, but the snow cleared before he could do so. "I see then, enjoy your stay Magus."

The Land Carrier was a massive affair. Part Ship, part tank, it rolled on treads and acted as the mobile bases of Asia-Pacific Republic. Born from desperation, technological prowess of the Japanese, and the manpower of the remains of China, it was given the title of most powerful thing to thread upon the land.

Seeing as it was crushing houses under its treads as it advanced onward Shirou could not held but agree as he approached the veritable mobile castle.

Then something exploded on the mobile bases' frontal hull.

"Magus please acknowledge verification of knowledge that we are currently on a reclamation mission." The massive turrent emplacements upon the caterpillar treads opened fire, shockwaves of force impacting Shirou's body even at his high altitude.

The arcs of the shells were minimal, due to the close proximity of the target.

And what a target it was.

The few cities that stayed above ground were domed by lattices of solar paneling and fiber glass armor. Something that would've been impossible without the knowledge of Magus metallurgists, but used in the few dozens of above ground cities thought the world. The dome's supports was a massive affair that was as tall as the six-story amphibious behemoth approaching it, and was one of the few Walls in the Pacific.

"I acknowledge." Shirou stated more than slightly perturbed as his handler began to whistle. Ayako tended to do so whenever she made an error. "request for a docking on the rear hanger, and a doctor on standby captain."

"You wounded soldier?"

"Only a flesh wound." Shirou grunted as he made my way into the mobile base. Klaxons began to sound off within the city, and he tried not to think about the damage that was about to be inflicted on his fellow man.

…

"Well I've cleaned it as best as I've could, but I had to remove what was left of you collar bone in the process." The doctor admitted as the scalpel hit the pan, along with said bone. Black tar was already seeping from it. "I can only imagine how the affected area would have looked before your emergency amputation."

"We'll find out as soon as I get to the corpse and analyze it." Shirou assuaged whatever fears the doctor had, his goal to make sure that the doctor didn't begin to doubt herself. It would not do to doubt oneself in the middle of a surgery or something else as life threatening. "By all means the new carcass will probably give some insight into what attacked me."

The doctor gave a small sight, running a callused hand through her trim hair. Very people lacked calluses, mostly because they trained in one way or another. Shirou noted that the doctor before him was probably quite adept at using a rifle, and not one of the larger battle rifles either. The woman was probably an expert in Anti-Armor warfare.

Given the fact she was the military, and studying a branch of the military was necessary to earn any sort of accreditation for one's chosen doctorate, this didn't surprise Shirou much.

The doctor met his eyes.

"Most of your upper torso is fine, but that is a massive wound. Try not to do anything heart-pounding before it clears up."

"Yes, ma'am." Shirou acknowledged, making a move to salute before realizing the arm he intended to use was gone.

"Cute." The doctor chuckled before tossing him a clean set of clothes.

"Get some rest and start saving the world in a lab-approved way after eight hours of sleep, Number Twenty-One." The doctor quipped before vacating the room. Shirou gave a dry chuckle at the joke, and immediately turned on the telecommunications package on the desk his communicator was attached to.

Ayako gave a shriek of terror and the screen suddenly turned black, just as he caught sight of the familiar blouse and jacket.

"Put some clothes on y-you idiot!" The answer to the question about to leave Shirou's mouth was received. The young man in question began to dress himself while minding his bandages. The shoulder less chest covering that he had been given, was the most comfortable clothing he'd ever worn. "Jeez I don't want to stare at your ugly chest all day."

"You've seen me naked many times." Shirou pointed out dryly, he wasn't particularly perturbed by was starting to get worried that his handler was being prudish. Ayako was a trained physician as well, and he wanted a second opinion. It wouldn't do well for something as tame as her preference for women to complicate their relations. "I would like you to set up a request for a prosthetic limb immediately."

Well that was actually his particular line of thought, the young man's handler was simply acting the same way a young woman would do towards someone she shouldn't… touch in any way.

"Alright, show me the wound." Ayako began her examination as Shirou did his best to show the wound at every angle. "Seems easy enough, though the boys should get excited at making a shoulder." The straight haired young woman gave a chuckle. "Maybe they'll put some pauldrons on it for you if you ask nicely."

"I'm going to get some sleep." Shirou simply rolled his eyes at the inopportune joke. The young magus was more than used to his handler's way of attempting to settle his nerves.

Besides, they worked. So who was he to complain about it?

…


	2. Chapter 2

The War: Re-Ignited.

…

Disclaimer: no monetary gain is made from this.

…

"Shirou, get your sister ready please." Kiritsugu Emiya asked his son softly, the boy gave a nod and relinquished his hold on the plow. Another of the community came to aid him, as his boy left. They continued to tiresome work of tilling the soil with the aid of their steer. Still, he estimated that it was about time that the transport arrived.

"Those Japs are playing you for a fool, Kiritsugu." Manuel suddenly stated as the sky was once more darkened by gray clouds over head. "They played us in the beginning, and they're going to play us again today."

A soldier from the Philippines, the highest ranking in fact, he didn't take to well when his country was invaded and taken over by Japanese refugees spearheaded by the former-JSDF. Combined with the major riots that needed to be put down, the terrorist uprisings, the Japanese insertions were the stick that broke the back of their people. Most of the citizens were in contrived communities led by warlords, and the government was broken. One of the many countries to fall, though one of the few that can attribute it to one that was supposedly one of the first world nations still keeping order.

"I made sure to tell them I'm only taking two students from each country, Manuel." Kiritsugu wasn't one to explain his intentions, but in the small community, trust was paramount and the colonel held the trust of his men. Kiritsugu held Manuel's trust, only because he saved them all with his timely intervention. Manuel kept his men alive in the midst of toxic ash, cursed flame, and the many enemies that fell upon them. Together they managed to lead the men to Subic bay, and gain the destroyer that was now a husk in the bay of the island. "I'd rather there be none of them present, to keep your men calm, but power needs to be balanced amongst as all if we are to survive."

The tanned, large man gave a nod, accentuating the shaggy hair that most of the military men adopted. Their time was better put to use than getting haircut, most adopted a twelve hour cycle instead of the usual twenty four. Sleeping for three hours after every nine, there was always a guard watching the scanners or the bay area.

"I'll leave that you, Kiritsugu, but being a bleedin' heart isn't going to end well for us." There was a slight buzzing sound on the communicator that the men had clipped to his pants. Despite the near daily overcast, the humidity of the island made most of the men forgo shirts, Kiritsugu was one of the few wearing it in the field and he was starting to find it troublesome. "New signal, new bird coming off the horizon, Pecho can't identify it."

"That's them then." The middle-aged native of the region waved over one of the men planting as Kiritsugu verified the transport. His body ached from the tiresome exercise, but there was hardly any reason to complain. He insisted on helping, while most of the others wanted him to simply stay put and rest. "I'll see you later then."

"Make sure to not let the Japs out of your sight." Manuel warned with a scowl on his face. "Many of my men lost their families when the Japs came, they'll be plenty happy to take those kids out."

"I'll do my best to talk them down." Kiritsugu promised, and the unspoken words were acknowledged. He'd try to get them to stand down, but if they didn't the men were fair game against the magus. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

The large man gave a scoff as he and his soldier made better time than Kiritsugu and his son.

"You're too soft Kiritsugu." As far as Manuel was concerned, the individual wasn't the root cause of his nation's end. The man was inordinately glad that his country was now a safe haven, with industry popping up in areas protected by the budding Pacific Alliance and contributing to the survival. What angered him was the decision to wipe out anything armed that wasn't of the JSDF, and that came from the still-strong regime that the Japanese followed. "A few idiots won't be missed if you have to put them down for a budding magi. Those kids will save a lot more lives in the future."

Kiritsugu gave the man a small smile, telling him that he wouldn't. The man couldn't in all honesty, the mere mention of killing for the greater number made him sick. That was what he strived for when he helped complete the Holy Grail, but that culminated in the scorching of the world. He didn't believe in himself anymore, all he has was his knowledge and experience to pass on.

He met his son near the helipad. The boy was wearing shorts, sandals and a loose T-shirt with a wide brimmed straw hat. At the boy's side, a girl with black hair clutched at his hand wearing similar clothes her glasses shining acutely. The only ones he was able to save in the chaos, the boy he found on the very first night, but the girl he found in a wreckage a day afterward. He had kept them safe ever since, and he tried not to think about all the men and women he killed to keep them safe. If he hadn't brought them…

"Dad," His son offered him his tarnished coat, its ends frayed and ragged but a symbolization of his skill in combat. It was old, it was tarnished and frayed, but there wasn't a single bullet hole present. No sign of weakness, a testament to his strength. The girl offered him a long-sleeved shirt to change into, and the leather harness that he wore for his guns. He accepted them both gratefully.

Kiritsugu Emiya gave a small smile that the two returned, and led them along to meet the rest of the children he'll teach.

…

Machines were man's salvation, not magic or what it gave. The alloys, the materials found by magi only accentuated the strength of machinery. While magic was choosy, even temperamental at times, machinery was resolute and hard and always completed its designed focus.

What saved the American's in the massive uprising that rose from the lawless South America's? Their gigantic railway network, freight trains armored and armed to the teeth fought until their Liberty Perimeter could be assembled, and the entire region locked down by hundreds of artillery cannons.

What saved Europe from the rise of apostles in the ruins of China? The network of satellites that gave them the exact information needed to stay ahead, and build up CASTLE as hordes of ghouls trekked across the land. Gigantic arrays of steel and concrete against mountains, valleys deepened by movers and spiked with mines.

Now, it was time for machinery to enter the offensive.

It was situated on a four-legged chassis, that can mimic insect and animal alike. The claws on the ends were meant to grab onto concrete and steel, as well as stabilize. No one argued that they did a fine job of decimating infantry men. Armored until it can withstand explosive charges, the legs could still carry or drag the entire body with only one in operation. Each one powered by a separate generator, they propelled the machine at speeds regular armor could not match. Grapples, with limited magazines, allowed the vehicle to move like no other vehicle in the world, able to change course in the blink of an eye.

Then there was the body, the part that held the pilot. Crafted from magi discovered alloys, and angled similar to assault helicopters, small arms could not hope to scratch it and shaped explosives contended with three inches of hyper-dense alloys. Each one sported the best sensors available, to supplement its nature as the sledgehammer of the limited forces upon the land carrier.

And what a sledge hammer it was, four omnidirectional sockets linked at the sides, with ammunition caches strapped to its back allowed it the most devastating of weaponry. Dual linked fifty caliber cannons, with dual feeds from the massive stores of ammunition, was the most generic of the weapons. The gun tore through concrete, vaporized bodies and turned vehicles to scrap.

Forty millimeter Cannons, the same used on tanks, fired rounds that can tear through buildings, prized as the most accurate of weapons to be fielded on the machine. The anti-aircraft cannon, was devastating when utilized against ground targets, with the appropriate ammunition allowed to it. The greatest of boasts could be said to utilize the cannons, to destroy the optical sensor of an anti-armor turrent from outside its effective range of two and a half miles.

Then came the more exotic weaponry.

A liquid thrower, suited for warfare and connected to hardly armored storage tanks. Any liquid placed in the tank couldn't hope to harm the machine itself, so the tanks forego armor in lieu of actual storage capacity. Three types of liquid can come out in a pressurized spray that won't drop for fifty yards, Napalm, Cryogenic Fluid, and Conductive gel. The be all end to the claims that it wouldn't be able to handle a mage in the battlefield. The tanks held all three, and not many were prepared to face such a thing in combat.

A flechette thrower, that shot caltrops from a side nozzle could tear through infantry regiments in a heartbeat. The flurry of iron slivers, designed to dig deep and find the gaps in armor, could tear through a man if he simply fell upon a crate of it. Propelled by a vacuum past at speeds excess of ninety miles per hour, the weapon barely lacked the ammunition to completely destroy a standard lair of an Apostle.

So it would have been a shock to many that the Land Carrier, _Kyoto, _only fielded these machines of war to the battlefield. A regiment of steel machines, was not the vision of warfare visualized in the years before the great scorching. But years ago, there was no lack of bodies willing to fight and not cower in the stalwart fortresses housing humanity. An able body was the greatest resource available, no expense can be spared in development and sustainment of the most limited of all resources.

A resource so scarce, that failure was acknowledged to the loss of a single soldier. Irreplaceability of men in the face of battle was never before encountered in any great war before. Great battalions and platoons sent out to die, or hold positions, weapons cheap and armor minimal that had been the tactics of centuries.

Each man could be fathering children, each woman giving new life, losing a soldier had a greater stake than losing a mission.

That was why Ryuudo Issei was trained to be the best, and held the trust of the nation in every decision he made. The machine he's piloted is a mark III, bulkier than the fourth, but slimmer than the fifth. It was a testament to his skill in the battlefield, that he was still using the machine, and was slotted to test the prototype that was housed within the confines of the storage unit he looked to.

Before even reaching the age of twenty, he was already an icon to every operator being trained and a hero to the masses. The bespectacled, shaven young man could hardly care less.

All that mattered to him, was that he would be able to fight against everything that killed his entire family.

Words were exchanged, pleasantries that hardly registered through his mind, between himself and the commander of the ship that would break the defenses of the city in two hours. A monumental occasion, considering the declarations that the walls were impenetrable the last time they were asked to join the conglomeration of cities that studded Japan.

For him, it just meant another fight.

…

The carrier had enough space to afford the maintenance of a regiment of armored crawlers, it was no surprise that there was enough space for the workshop systems that Shirou needed to utilize.

Though no mage before the cataclysm would recognize the workshop that was considered basic throughout the world, they would have no problems being able to utilize it. Beakers, centrifuges, vats of suspension liquid, along with 3-D printers and high intensity cutting tools were found to be the only things that could be utilized by magi from common technology. They all only worked toward making the job be more efficient, not actually giving any advantages other than that. Magic was still leaps and bounds ahead of the best computational computer that could be allowed onto the field, Structural Analysis the most basic yet most sought after technique that needed to be replicated.

The magic itself was just as the name suggested, the analysis of an object to determine its makeup and its use age. Whereas an entire team of scientists would pore over a mystic code, or a carcass of a beast for weeks before any results, Structural Analysis yielded instant cumulative results that could be worked upon.

So mere hours after his arrival, Shirou Emiya was already wielding the product of his study of the carcass, and wielding the blade in front of a camera.

Being a magus of the day and age required being a soldier and researcher both. Admittedly Shirou wasn't the best of researchers, so he only went through the checklist that was the absolute basics as he demonstrated the white blade in his hands.

"Calcium carbonate and phosphate blade, experiment number four." The magus rigidly recorded. "The commander of the ship allowed me access to the morgue, and I utilized the same techniques I presented in the first recording, and perfected in the one previous to this."

"My hypothesis on the origin of the bone is correct, and that human cadavers prove to be the source of the beasts I had fought." Shirou presented the bone blade, running it across his finger. Blood spilled and dyed the weapon red within a moment. "The blades I made from the beef bone I took from the kitchens was far more difficult to sharpen, but has a far sturdier nature that those build of human bone."

The red-haired young man placed the blade on its side and dropped a ten pound weight on it. The entire blade shattered into many pieces.

"Due to my own interaction with the weapons in question, I believe that the monsters utilize multiple human cadavers to multiply. Four or three human bodies will provide structural support for the appendages used to disarm me." Shirou let out a breath, and pressed the button upon the microphone he had attached to his collar. The camera shut itself off without further input and the young magus retrieved it from its perch.

Such knowledge would've been sequestered in hidden in the old times, he'd been told, and utilized to further one's own goals. There was hardly a day that Shirou imagined what the world would have been if they'd been sharing knowledge decades earlier with one another. Such circumstances would've probably-

The one armed magus shook his head, no point in thinking too much about what could've been. The present still needed to be attended to.

A sharp rap on the door drew his attention, and Shirou went to address it. The moment he opened the door, a young woman burst through, her hair formal along with the rest of her uniform. The sheen of sweat, however, made it known to him that something serious was occurring.

"We need your help." The woman breathed out, attempting to stand straight. The land carrier was the size of a small village, and was stories tall. Elevators were mandatory, but stairs were more prolific and speedy. Judging from her dress, Shirou guessed she made her way from the top-most floor in the command center. "The city is under control of an Apostle."

Shirou's features became stony.

"I'll get over to command immediately." He grabbed the woman's elbow, making slight note of her discomfort at the action. The young man preferred not to be so forceful, but workshops were only for Magi and no other.

"The hangar, you need to get to the hangar." The woman explained as he set her down near the wall. The woman complied easily and set herself down. "We've got your bike armed, and we have a crawler attached to it."

"A crawler got shot down?"

"They're all down." The woman's face emphasized the panic that suddenly seized Shirou's heart. "They somehow had an EMP pulse, and knocked out the systems of the new analogues. We've only got one Mark III ready and we want you to deliver it to its pilot."

An EMP, how in the hell did they get their hands on hardware like that? Why would an Apostle conquer an entire city, as well as utilize technology to such effect? All the questions plagued his mind, but he really only needed to get one question asked.

"What difference is one Mark III going to make in this?" Shirou asked bluntly, "My transport will be much faster without that much weight pulling it down."

The woman gave him a blithe smile.

"It's not the machine, sir. It's the one that's going to pilot it that's going to make the difference."

…

Ryuudo Issei was not having a good day. The prototype crawler was a headache, all it's controls digital. The young man was so used to the six pedal directional system, the grappling clutches, and the two control sticks, he didn't even get a shot off before the EMP fried the entire battalion.

Then came the swarms of soldiers, wielding cutting tools, and he knew that it was just going to get worse. Soldiers on the field wore exoskeletons, to better protect from the swarms of undead that plagued most countries. The world going back to armored infantry after hundreds of years without them. Still, no knight could run at thirty miles per hour, or could take a fifty caliber shot to the chest and remain standing. Ceramic atop the machine and lamellar Kevlar around the man provided enough protection that they could withstand taking the full brunt of the flechette air cannon. The chemical thrower still made short work of them, the suits weren't terribly well insulated to both fire and electricity, and there were very few countermeasures to a cryogenic spray.

Still, they were coming to rip him and his men out of their cockpits and hold them hostage. The entire operation would stop as negotiations would have to ensue, just for pilots. The next time they returned, their crawlers would be piloted to work against them and rules of engagement concerning crawler warfare was non-existent.

Issei was lucky, he supposed, that his machine crashed into a building and he could leave the cockpit in relative safety. The rest of his comrades were either in the streets, or strapped to buildings like giant insects.

While EMP's weren't in mind towards their assault plans, reactivation of any of the crawlers stipulated only a jump start from an external source. The sleek prototype he had sported an experimental reactor built around a new element. The entire machine ran like a dream, but the electronic systems weren't hardened in expectation of EMPs just yet. In any case, letting the reactor fall into the wrong hands was not an option.

So he got out, grabbed his survival pack and latched the cylinder the length of his forearm to where his water canteen would go. The young man doubted he'd need food supplies in the middle of a human-inhabited city.

Coolly remembering his training, the young man clad in simple fatigues and an environmental helmet, wielding only a silenced nine millimeter pistol, began to plan his escape.

The sensor monitors told him that each crawler was being approached by three men each. The machines had been designed to provide data even if it was destroyed, Issei took advantage of that fact and knew that there were three heavily armed men making a beeline for his position.

Each of the men sported armor that would make firing at them more a hazard to himself. The bullets he had were more likely to ricochet dangerously throughout the room. They also hopelessly outgunned him, given the fact that each man was able to wield one of the weapons set onto a crawler. The chemical throwers weren't available to them, however, since the weapon was both costly and dangerous when the user wasn't completely impervious to what the massive tank held within.

Still, Ryuudo Issei only needed them to make a single mistake and with that thought in mind he lined up his shot to the door.

The man kicked the door open, and he took the shot.

Many newer versions of the combat exoskeleton featured an angular chest piece that went up to the chin. A fatal shot by a trained marksman, at the sternum of a man clad completely in armor, would ricochet the bullet into the helmet.

The shot would've been considered impossible by many, but training to capture a city with a little more than a hundred men was a harder job. The man who entered first grasped his throat as the bullet entered the location, sending his own blood down his esophagus.

Issei dodged once he heard the whine of a flechette cannon. The area where he was became studded with tiny caltrops, the tiny metal studs embedding themselves into concrete.

The metal soldiers filed in and he took cover behind his ruined crawler. Sprays of fifty caliber rounds thudded into the resilient armor of the prototype, before the pause he was waiting for suddenly came in a tiny metallic voice.

"Lay down your arms, we assure you that you will be returned to your people…" Ransomed like the ancient knights of old, even in the case that he killed one of their squad. Any other man would've agreed, but Issei Ryuudo had a promise to keep. The promise to never lose a single fight, even in the world he lived in now.

The men tensed as he aimed his weapon at them, their own massive weapons leveled at him. If they even pulled their triggers for a split second, he would become paste on the wall of the building he fell onto.

They knew his only chance was to nail them in a quick and precise manner, one time for each neck. They doubted that he would be able to pull it off without one of their fingers touching their triggers. He would need luck beyond comparison to fight kill them both.

Their mistake was that they thought Ryuudo Issei would leave something as important as his life to luck. So they were suitably surprised to find him point his weapon to the left, at the dresser they stood next to in the bedroom he crashed into.

The nine millimeter steel-tipped bullet penetrated the chemical tank he hid within the piece of furniture. Out of all the three chemicals that were stored within, only one was dangerous when even in the tank. Both the napalm and the gel were inert without the proper agents to ignite them. Only the cryogenic fluid was dangerous without an igniting system.

The two metal-clad soldiers were doused in an explosions of fluid that froze the water in the air. Issei was glad for his mask and the thickness of the coat that operators were given. Even from across the room, frost covered his entire form, and he had to wipe off ice from his helmet. Without the mask, his lungs would have frozen at his first breath, and without the thick clothing he would've been turned into an icicle himself.

Using the butt of his hand gun, he smashed his way through the two blocking the door and began his way back to the carrier.

Or he would have, if not for the second squad that was in the doorway. The men were wearing fatigues, and helmets just like himself. It explained the lack of warning he had as he walked into the ambush.

"Alright, hotshot." The leader of the men jabbed his automatic rifle at him. The mainstay assault weapon was chambered for fifty caliber, hollow point rounds. A single shot would make a hole the size of a bowling ball somewhere in his body. "Weapon's down, and hand were we can see them-."

The sound of thunder suddenly permeated the entire building and Ryuudo Issei ducked as the group of four men turned into little more than chunks of meat. The young man would be able to place that sound anywhere, anyone could. The main cannon on the flying craft utilized by Magi were icons of power. A veritable, recoilless automatic artillery piece situated on a frame that was light enough to float on water.

He got up, looked to the room behind him, and the machine was right floating languidly outside as he had expected.

"Ryuudo Issei?" The one armed, pure-whit clad Magus addressed him and he gave a deft nod of acknowledgement. "I believe you have something of great importance?"

"You're going to ferry me out of here?" The young man bit back his anger at the thought of being the only one ferried out. As much as he was ostracized because of his youth, everyone trapped in their crawlers were basically his family. He'd known them almost as much as the family he'd lost in the aftermath. "Sir."

The magus suddenly drew his sidearm and Issei's breath caught in his throat as it was pointed at him. Another icon of a Magus, besides their method of transportation, was the gun now pointed at him. A far cry from the mystical device that was only handed to the best, the massive handgun utilized rocket propelled projectiles with proximity, directed charges. The perfect anti-armor and anti-personnel weapon pointed at him, he knew that the magus didn't particularly care about _his _survival.

The gun cracked, almost the same sound as the artillery piece strapped to the underbelly of the magus' craft. One would hardly be able to the believe that the projectile came from such a flimsy a barrel as the one situated above the four-shot magazine the same length as itself. It was true as well, the magazines came with barrels attached to the top, and the trigger handle was just an igniting system.

Blood splattered on the bespectacled young man, but not from him. The man who seemed to had died from shock when his leg and arm was torn off was liquefied as he began to reach for a grenade on his chest.

"Sorry, soldier." The magus holstered the smoking weapon. The magi's voice was almost drowned out as the craft rose and its payload revealed. "You still have a mission to do."

Ryuudo Issei was glad he was wearing a helmet, otherwise he would've been afraid his excitement might have been caught by the magus.

"Let's do this."

…


End file.
